


Little Things

by Chamelaucium



Series: Fluff Under The Mountain: Tale of Two Lovebirds [3]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Consort Bilbo, Flowers, Fluff, Insecure Thorin, Language of Flowers, M/M, fluffy fluff fluff, they're so domestic it's sickeningly sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-23
Updated: 2014-06-23
Packaged: 2018-02-05 21:36:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1833124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chamelaucium/pseuds/Chamelaucium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>While Thorin was always prone to grand gestures, usually featuring lots of gold and jewels and hours spent in Erebor's forges, Bilbo opted for subtler tactics - his acts were the small, everyday kind that warmed Thorin to his very bones.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Things

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Epoxide (MiyuTanemura)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiyuTanemura/gifts).



> This was written as a birthday present for the lovely Epoxide! I hope you like it, dear! ♥
> 
> It's silly and fluffy and that's about it. Waiting for this trailer is taking it out of me, you know?!

After everything, Thorin couldn't believe that Bilbo loved him enough to stay with him and become his husband and consort, and expressed this disbelief on multiple occasions. Every time he did so, his words catching in his throat as he gave Bilbo another chance to leave if he wished despite the fact the mere thought caused his heart to feel like it was breaking, Bilbo would sigh in exasperation and kiss him fiercely. 

'You're stuck with me now,' he'd say, reaching up to curl his hands in Thorin's hair while Thorin would cradle his face close. 'You won't get rid of me that easily.'

And Thorin would kiss him back, holding him so tightly as if he couldn't bear to be parted even for a minute. 

For his part, Bilbo seemed determined to prove to Thorin how much he truly loved him, and though Thorin would never understand his luck he wasn't fool enough to throw it away.

While Thorin was always prone to grand gestures, usually featuring lots of gold and jewels and hours spent in Erebor's forges and which often made Bilbo smile at him in amusement at the extravagance of the gift, Bilbo opted for subtler tactics - his acts were the small, everyday kind that warmed Thorin to his very bones and he thought his heart might give up, it was so full of love for his hobbit. And it was these little things that made life as King Under the Mountain so perfect. 

Well, almost perfect. 

\---

Thorin always hated these meetings with his council. They were astoundingly dull and infuriatingly necessary, and often it was only the thought of what Bilbo would say that stopped him from pulling his hair out. (His hobbit had a fondness for his hair, though he could spend hours simply marvelling at the way the honey curls would fall over Bilbo's ears and glow gold in the firelight).

He hated it when the meetings ran over time, meaning he couldn't get away to spend lunch with his hobbit and instead food was brought to them all in the council chamber. And unfortunately for him, today was one of those days and he was stuck with the mind-numbing topic of wool imports as an accompaniment to his midday meal, rather than his little husband with his cheerful smile and bright eyes, and Thorin couldn't tease him about his enthusiasm for his food and elicit that delightful little laugh.

The servants entered the council chamber with plates and dishes piled high with foods - at least the food was good, even if the company wasn't - and the mood of the council perked up considerably at this development, as the delicious smells permeated the room.

One servant came and placed a tray specifically in front of Thorin, who looked up at the dam questioningly.

"His Highness saw to your meal, Your Grace," she said, fumbling over her words a little. "He wanted me to tell you that he hopes Your Grace enjoys the meal and..." she paused, looking uncertain. 

"Yes?" Thorin prompted her and she flushed. 

"He hopes you haven't bitten off too many heads, Your Grace, as he has no wish to find other dwarves foolish enough to replace them," she said all in a rush before stepping back and scurrying away, face flushed a deep red. 

Thorin felt his lips twitch in amusement at his husband's cheek and his dark mood lighten just a bit. Bilbo always knew how to make him feel better, even if he wasn't even present; he had felt like his temper was about to snap any moment but Bilbo's words acted as a soothing balm, even if they were relayed through a messenger. He could just imagine Bilbo's smirk as he gave the dam the instructions. 

He turned to his tray, wondering what things Bilbo had prepared for him today. He noticed then that there were little bits of Bilbo's baking paper littered over the tray and he picked one up to examine it; he felt warm all over and a smile so wide it almost hurt his cheeks appear on his face as he saw that it was cut into the shape of a small 'x'.

Kisses. Bilbo had taught him that hobbits would often sign off letters to loved ones with x's, that they represented kisses. Bilbo must have spent ages making these, cutting them out perfectly neatly and evenly so that he could arrange them over his lunch tray. He could almost feel a ghost of Bilbo's warm lips against his cheek as he thought about him, and he smiled softly, slipping one of the kisses into his coat. 

He couldn't wait for this meeting to be over, so he could show his husband what _real_ kisses were.

\---

Thorin wasn't the most diplomatic dwarf - as Bilbo often told him and chastised him for when he grumbled about dealing with elves - but even he knew the importance of good trading relations with their neighbours. And so once again he found himself in Dale, still being rebuilt even a year on, to partake in talks with Bard.

He did his best to be more than just civil, putting the lessons Bilbo had given him on small talk to good use; he wasn't completely successful, if Bard's small smile was any indication, but he seemed amused by it, not ready to take offense. 

Thorin was shown to a set of rooms, Balin and Dís given theirs closeby. They weren't the most luxurious of furnishings, but for a city still very much in the rebuilding stage they were comfortable enough. 

It was late now, however, and after a dinner with Bard and his children, everyone deliberately avoiding political matters (there'd be more than enough of that tomorrow, and didn't that thought just fill him with joy), Thorin was more than ready to fall asleep. After shedding his outer layers and changing into his sleepwear, he flopped onto the bed - which felt strangely flimsy, used as he was to the stone bedposts of his own - and stretched out a hand to reach for his hobbit when it met only emptiness and cold sheets. 

With a sigh he rolled over, closing his eyes and pretending Bilbo was with him, breathing in time with him and sharing his warmth with his hand curled up in Thorin's.

This was the real reason he hated diplomatic meetings, though; he could just about deal with the diplomacy and the talks and the dinners, but what he hated was the fact he had to leave Bilbo behind. 

Suddenly he opened his eyes and sat up - in the very bottom of his pack beside the spare socks Bilbo had slipped in when he wasn't looking had been an extra bag, one he didn't recognise. Fumbling he found it and pulled it out, only to find it wasn't a bag as a very familiar smell met his nose. It was one of Bilbo's shirts, one of his smart hobbity ones he'd brought back from the Shire and which Thorin loved to see him wear. It smelt of him. 

It was a smell Thorin could never get enough of, and he always found an excuse to bury his nose into the crook of Bilbo's neck when he could, although it was partly because of the small giggles it would pull from his hobbit. He smiled as he lay back down, the shirt bundled up before him. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine that Bilbo was there with him.

Thorin's heart swelled as he thought about Bilbo slipping it in to his pack, knowing how much Thorin missed him when he went away; he wondered if Bilbo had swiped one of his shirts before it went to laundry and was doing the very same thing, alone in their big bed piled with furs. While he still missed Bilbo terribly, even knowing it was only for a week, Thorin's heart eased enough to let him fall asleep and dream of simply holding his hobbit.

\---

Thorin couldn't suppress the indulgent smile that spread across his face when he walked into their chamber and found Bilbo by the door that opened out onto a balcony, up to his elbows in soil and planting one of the new orchids that had arrived for him. Their rooms were always warm, insulated as they were by rock, and he'd been so excited at the prospect of growing an orchid that Thorin had bought him the best.

"Hullo again," Bilbo turned and grinned at him from the floor as he paused in patting the soil down. Thorin walked over to him and leaned down, pressing a kiss to his husband's lips and lingering just for a moment before pulling away and brushing his curls away from his face."I didn't expect you to be back so early. I thought you had a meeting with the jewellers?"

"I do," Thorin sighed. "But I left the papers here. Do you remember where I put them?"

"You're awful," Bilbo said with no real malice, chuckling lightly. "They're on the chest in the corner."

Thorin found the papers on said chest and let out a hum before returning to Bilbo and kissing him soundly again. "I love you."

"And I love you," Bilbo's eyes crinkled as he smiled. "Now go. But hurry back to me; I've got something special for lunch."

Thorin turned and hurried back to the large meeting chamber where Balin and some of the jewellers were waiting for him to discuss quotas and taxes and the like. As the meeting progressed he flicked through the sheets of parchment and he felt himself smile when occasionally the odd red rose petal would fall out, and once or twice a pressed myrtle flower would be revealed. He noted the looks of the other dwarves but said nothing, his insides doing strange things as he touched the petals gently. His Bilbo was sneaky, slipping them into his very important documents - not that he minded all that much. 

The next day, as he sat on the throne to take petitions, he reached to fiddle with his pocket as his mind began to wander; he was startled when his hand encountered something other than velvet lining and when he drew it out he found pressed blue forget-me-nots scattered in his palm. Bilbo always said they were the colour of his eyes in the firelight. 

And every night without fail, as he dropped into bed next to an already sleepy Bilbo, there would be a sprig of orange blossom in a little glass next to his bed.

\---

Bilbo never said anything and Thorin never asked, but every night as he held Bilbo close he tried to tell him, show him how much his wordless acts of love meant to Thorin. With Bilbo there with him, Thorin could be the poorest dwarf in the Blue Mountains and be perfectly content. 

And eventually, he got that Bilbo was perfectly content by his side, thank you very much, and that was where he'd be staying. All Thorin could do was hold him closer and thank Mahal for blessing him with his beautiful, wonderful hobbit he loved with all his heart.

**Author's Note:**

> According to [ this website, ](http://www.languageofflowers.com/flowermeaning.htm#anchora) the flowers mean:  
> Red roses and Myrtle - love  
> Forget-me-not - pretty self-explanatory :P  
> Orange blossom - eternal love
> 
> I hope you liked it! And Epoxide, I hope you have a super wonderful birthday! ♥


End file.
